Former Self
by Aerilon452
Summary: John wakes to an unexpected change.


Summary: John wakes up to find something unexpected.

Pairing: Helen and John

Rating: M

**FORMER SELF:**

John had been sleeping soundly in his bed at the Sanctuary. Helen had asked for him to linger as long as he was able and he had agreed. So far his impulses were kept in check; his need to take life was less of a compulsion. It must have something to do with the drugs that he had taken in Cambodia. The drugs should have worn off by now. If they hadn't, John wasn't going to worry. He was going to enjoy the small measure of control he had for as long as could keep it.

Shifting from lying on his stomach, John rolled over feeling something tickling the side of his face. Opening his eyes he saw strands of black hair draped over his eyes. Groaning he rose from the bed and walked to the adjoining bath room. In the mirror he saw reflected his former self. He hadn't seen this version of himself since the first time they hunted down Adam Worth. Never had his hair grown in over night before. John didn't know why, but for some reason he could go ten to twelve years between needing to shave his head. It was one of the mysteries of the blood that still lingered in his veins. John rummaged in the drawers looking for scissors and a razor. He groaned when he found none. That meant he would have to spend most of the day looking like this; the only thing he found was a thin red hair tie. At least his hair wouldn't be in his face. Drawing his fingers through his hair John brought it into a ponytail and secured it with the band.

John went back to the other room where he haphazardly made the bed and changed into a black pair of exercise pants and a dark blue tank top. He was feeling the need to pound out his frustration on a punching bag. Just a fleeting thought, John would have wanted to spar with Helen. Only she was still recovering from her excursion to Hollow Earth. John would make it a point to go and check on her later in the day, after he took care of his anger and his hair. John stepped out into the hall and made his way to the small gym Helen had in her Sanctuary.

**LATER THAT AFTERNOON:**

John had been working out all morning and much into the afternoon without his energy abating. He circled the black punching back delivering punch after punch. His muscles screamed, his body hurt, but there was no end in sight. He needed to purge some of his anger before he hurt someone again, before he hurt Helen. John backed off for a few seconds to wipe away the sweat on his brow. Cracking his neck he was right back at attacking the punching bag.

**HENRY'S LAB:**

Helen had come down to Henry's work lab to ask her resident tech about doing an upgrade. Only, she hadn't found him, what she had found was the monitor que'd up on the gym and what she saw stunned her. She knew immediately who it was, but to see him like that made images in her mind spin and turn. John was letting out all his furry on a punching back. He looked more like a street fighter than the martial artist she knew him to be. Helen actually gulped at the sight of him with his dark midnight hair pulled back, at the sight of all his muscles working. She never forgot how handsome he was, but seeing him like this made her yearn for him again.

"Hey doc, whatcha lookin' at?" Kate asked coming into the lab. She moved beside Magnus and then said, "Oh, wow."

"Yes," Helen answered. That was all she could say in regards to watching John. It was one of her guilty pleasures. With hair John was gorgeous, without he was just plain sinister, but still so marvelous to look at. Helen's eyes were riveted to the screen, she couldn't turn away.

"You guys ok?" Will asked from the doorway of the lab. He had been standing there for a few minutes just watching Magnus and Kate as they watched the monitor. Curiosity getting the better of him Will ambled over to check out what they were so enraptured with. "Is that a new intake?"

"Nope…" Kate cocked her head to the left and continued to watch. It was ok to watch just so long as she tried not to touch.

"Wait… that can't be… Can it?" Will looked at the profile shot of the man on the monitor.

"Yup, that's John." Helen confirmed. She moved away from the work bench with the intention of heading to her room to change. Helen had a need to work out, not to continue to rest or watch from behind the safety of a monitor.

"Now where do you think she's going?" Will looked after Magnus as she walked out of the lab.

"I don't know but if I was her," Kate motioned to the image of Druitt pounding the punching bag, "I would go and get a piece of that." Kate looked back to the monitor to watch Druitt work out. She could fully understand why the Doc wanted to keep him around for as long as she could.

**SANCTUAY GYM:**

John's arms felt like lead, his thigh and leg muscles burned, but still he didn't stop. He bet when he took off the padding around his knuckles they would be raw and red, bleeding even. That wasn't enough to make him stop. What made him stop was the sight of Helen walking into the gym dressed nearly identical to him. He had just delivered a powerful punch to the punching bag and didn't pay attention as it swung back and hit him in the chest. John coughed slightly as he continued to watch Helen walk over to him. She wore black pants, a light blue tank top, and no shoes. Helen was securing her hair back in a low ponytail. "You know you should really be resting." He pointed out. It would be remiss of him not to at least remind her that rest was important.

"I thought you were doing the same?" She asked rather than tell him not to worry about her. Deep down she appreciated his concern, for show though she had to be tough.

"I was, got sick of it." John answered stepping away from the bag to move in front of her. He shrugged and feigned indifference to his body's aches and pains. It's not like he was a Young man of eighty anymore.

"Same with me," Helen finished wrapping her hands. "I saw you on the security camera, thought you would be ripe for a good brawl." Helen tried to keep her eyes locked with his and not think of how good he looked all sweaty, hair combed back out of his face. 'You know you want to take a bite out of that.' Her libido purred. Helen tried not to think of how good John looked. She tried to focus.

"A good brawl huh? You're not scared that I'll hurt you?" John asked stalking closer to her. Using his left hand he pulled free the tie, only to secure his hair back at the nape of his neck. If Helen wanted to fight him then he wanted to have a clear field of vision.

"You hurt me and I'll hurt you back." Helen smiled her best wicked smile at John. She needed the work out. Helen needed her blood to flow faster and her adrenaline to pump. John was good to give her a fight. He never needed any prompting in that department whether he was sane or a deranged killer.

"Really," John was intrigued at that. Playfully he swung out at her. Helen dodged, landing a blow to his ribs. They were still sore from his encounter with Adam's pale minions. John growled putting up his hands. Helen arched her eyebrow at him and smirked. "I'm going to get you for that." John said, just as playfully as his swing had been a second ago.

"Come and get me." Helen put her fists up and watched him as they circled each other. It then occurred to her that she hadn't had the EM shield raised. First John was in front of her, and then he used his powers. Arms encircled her locking her in tight against his chest. Helen hooked her foot around his ankle throwing him off balance. Together she and John fell to the matted floor. John's hold loosened and Helen was able to get free. She rolled to her feet and waited.

John lay on the floor looking up at her laughing. This was more fun than he thought it would be. He wouldn't use his powers on her. Gaining his feet John got into position again calculating his next moves. John faked to his left, pivoted, landing a blow to the middle of her back.

Helen hissed, turning to engage him. She landed a blow to his mid section, and then brought her knee up. John blocked, threw her off balance sending her to the matted floor. He stood looking down at her and smiled. Helen smirked just as she kicked his legs out from under him. She was satisfied when she heard him connect with the matt.

John fell flat and laughed much as he had three years ago when he had tried to teleport through the EM shield and was thrown out. John once again gained his feet offering his hand to Helen. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Before they continued to spar John brushed some of her hair back from her face. "Your hair is coming loose," He muttered.

"So is yours," Helen replied mirroring his actions. She ran her fingers down the side of his face tucking the stray strands of hair behind his ear. Smiling Helen pulled her hand back and retied her hair, tighter this time. She watched as John did the same.

As John retied his hair he asked, "You still want more?"

"I'm not done with you yet," Helen laughed stepping away and getting into position again.

"Good," John replied drawing his fists up. Helen struck out and he blocked. She drew back into form. John waited and fell for her trap. She had leaned right, ducking down going for his ribs, when she straightened and her fist glanced off his temple. He felt a warm trickle slide down and knew it was blood. John went down on one knee wiping away the blood. It took great force to make him bleed. The blood had made them all stronger and Helen was using her strength.

"Looks like I've drawn first blood. Do you want to surrender?" She taunted. It was much the same principle as pulling a tiger by the tail Helen was in the mood for chaos; she wanted to fight the Ripper. She wanted him to fight back, to really fight back. John looked up at her. Helen saw a curious look in his eyes and knew what he was going to do. When she went to step back he lunged at her bringing her to the matt under him. Her knees were trapped to the left under his side and his hands were holding her wrist's captive above her head.

"Do you want to surrender?" John taunted in return. He only laughed when she squirmed, getting no where she growled, stilling her body. John laughed harder at her. When they would spar back in the old days, when he was teaching her to fight, Helen always had trouble getting out of this hold.

Without realizing John's hold had gone lax. Helen took that moment to take advantage. She freed her right hand, clamping it around his throat, and using the added vampiric strength the blood had given her, Helen reversed them and pined John. His hands were pinned above his head with her straddling his waist. "Reverse."

"Why is it that we always end up on the floor?" John asked.

"Could be just where our minds are." Helen smirked.

John moved his head to the left, grinned, and broke the hold she had on his wrists. Grasping her waist John flipped her so she hit the matt; her head rested next to his. "This is beginning to get fun." John muttered. "Still want more?" He smiled when Helen nudged his head with her own.

Helen got up offering her hand to John as he had done earlier. She pulled him close barely touching her lips to his, "I don't want to fight…" Her hands trailed over his shoulders, down his arms, and she laced her fingers with his.

John stayed where he was, "What do you want?" He breathed in every time she did. She was the life he needed. Being around her made him remember what it was like to actually be a human and not a monster.

She was still geared up; the adrenaline was going to her brain. "I want…" Helen moved and whispered in his ear, "A shower." She laughed. "We're both very sweaty."

"You tease," John accused playfully.

"Keep up the name calling and I may just shower alone," Helen taunted. This was not how she would normally be acting, except death had a curious way of changing the way one thought. Dying in Hollow Earth made her appreciate what she had with John now, not lamenting what she had lost. John was a primal force, passionate and dangerous. She wanted that danger and she wanted the hard grinding force of his passion.

John arched his left eyebrow. Reaching out her slipped his arms around her waist, "Really? You would let me shower with you?" He was trying to keep things light, but even he could see the darkness clouding her eyes.

"John, I died, and my last thought was of you," She confessed. Helen ran her hands up his chest, up the sides of his neck, and pulled free the tie giving her fingers what they wanted, the feel of John's hair. "Please, let me have this from you."

"You never need to encourage me for that," John replied placing a gentle kiss to her temple. Closing his eyes John used his powers once again to taken them to the adjoining bathroom attached to his room.

Just as she had done John gently pulled free the hair tie keeping her wild mane of dark hair out of her face. Her eyes remained closed when he dipped his hands down, grasping the edge of her tank top and pulling it over her head. Along her left upper arm John could barely make out the thin pale scars that remained from the wound their daughter had left her with. John bent down placing a kiss to her shoulder where the first scar rested. That night was the one night he should have been by her side.

Helen knew what he saw, she saw them all the time; the scars Ashley had left on her. Opening her eyes she kissed his jaw stepping back. Mirroring him Helen drew the edge of his shirt up and over his head. There, pale and barely visible, Helen saw the same claw marks. She placed a gentle kiss to the top scar that rested over his heart. Turning her head Helen rested her ear over his heart and listened to the resounding thump. It was then that she felt him quiver. Helen looked him in the eyes, "John, your shaking."

"Muscle fatigue, that's all." He lied. John had no idea why he was shaking so. It had to do with Helen and the tender touches she was giving him. Too long had he been without them that his body nearly forgot the power her touch commanded from him. He tried to pull himself back, it was difficult. Taking her hands John removed the protective padding. After the padding was removed he could see the red tint to her knuckles, there would be bruising later. John lifted her hands to his lips, placing light kisses to each knuckle.

Helen couldn't keep her heart from beating faster just at the sight of John removing the wraps from her hands. It amazed her how gentle he could be with all the violence locked up inside of him. With her protective wraps removed Helen did the same for him. Beneath John's wraps his knuckles were bloody and raw. Having his wraps off Helen could see the tremors in John's hands. "You pushed yourself too hard." Helen gently chided.

"I know, it won't happen again," John sounded sincere reaching for the tie of her pants. He smiled when Helen's hands reached for the tie of his pants as well. Gripping her waist John pulled back into him, giving him easy access to her lips. Leaning down he nipped them, then ran his tongue over her bottom lip. Sliding his hands around her waist, up her back, John hooked his fingers in the back clasp of her bra. A gentle tug and the article of clothing was falling away, falling down her arms, and down to the floor. He applied more pressure, made the kiss harder backing her up towards the shower. Keeping his lips to hers John ran his hands down her side and around to the back of her thighs, picking her up so he could step over the small lip of the shower stall. The need to keep her close was so strong in his mind; to pull away from her would physically hurt him.

Helen was on fire, a fire that only John could extinguish. His lips dulled the fire, made it less, but she still burned. Making an effort to pull one hand away Helen reached for the temperature knob to get the water running. At first she could feel the cold; John hissed as the water hit him square in the back, but he settled almost instantly as the water warmed. Reaching out even more she adjusted the shower head so the water fell over both of them. It was then that John chose to set her down, but then he kneeled in front of her. Again his hands slid over her hips, fingers hooking in the waist band of her pants. Slowly he pulled them down off her hips, and down her legs. Something she hadn't felt in a long time; her Victorian modesty. It felt ridiculous, this was John, and he had seen all of her numerous times. Helen ran her fingers through his hair and gently tugged urging him back up to her, wanting his lips again.

John heeded the gentle tug on his hair, standing up with Helen kicking away her now wet pants. Turning them John had Helen under the brunt of the hot water, tasting her and the water. His hands roamed over the flat expanse of her stomach, enjoying her creamy silky skin. She was his haven, his Sanctuary, the only harbor he wanted to take shelter in. Taking his time, John relearned her flesh, the way he could make her gasp or scream in pleasure. She was making it difficult to remain slow; her hands were running over the hard length of him still encased in his pants. John growled low and deep in his chest. Helen had a way of making him lose his mind. Taking her wrists in his hands John pinned Helen against the wall, continuing to ravish her mouth with heated kisses.

Helen was beginning to lose all sense of herself in John's arms, in the feel of his lips, his exotic taste. He had pinned her wrists above her head when she had run her hands provocatively over his hard, erect male organ straining beneath the fabric of his pants. She wanted to feel him, to hold in him in her hand. Too long had she been without a lover, without John, that she wasn't sure how long she would last. The fight she had wanted to have with him had suddenly turned into a simmer of pleasure that she knew she could have in his arms. A whimper escaped; it was a gentle pleading for him to stop playing.

John heard the soft whimper over the pounding of the water. It was the sweetest music to his ears. He let her hands go, locking his arms around her waist. There was so little time for them; his body was burning from the inside out, screaming to possess her. For her to be consumed by him again, it would have to be entirely Helen's choice. Taking back some measure of control John stepped back, let her have some space, let her make the next move.

Helen felt her mind clear a fraction, but she still wanted John with a desperate hunger. Reaching out, placing her hand over his heart, she smiled and nodded. He was the only man she would ever want, the only man she would hunger for. Running her hand up, over his shoulder, Helen drew John back in close to her body, close to the hot water. Her right hand tangled in the thick, wet, black strands of his hair while her left traversed the expanse of his toned chest, his abs, and on down to her real goal; his aching, straining manhood. Helen dragged the short nail of her index finger up the shaft; John jumped in pleasure, then growled. The feeling of it rumbled against her chest, teasing her heart beat higher and higher. She closed her hand over him, pulling her lips away from his to say, more gasp, "There is no fatigue here." To punctuate her words she gently squeezed while pumping her fist up and then down.

"You've brought me to life," John groaned, nipping at her cheek, just concentrating on not coming from the feeling of her hand on him.

Helen smiled a devilish smile, one that would rival John's, as she untangled her hand from his hair and ringing it down to his waist, "You're still wearing pants…" she purred dragging them down his hips allowing his iron hard shaft freedom from the confining material of his pants. He was everything she remembered and feared never having again. The pants, with aide of the water, slid effortlessly down his long lean legs; Helen licked her lips in anticipation of him filling her.

"Are you sure…?" John could barely think. The feeling of Helen's flesh against his drained all of his logical thought, all of his reasoning. Sometimes the soul shattering ache to once again have Helen caused him more madness than the energy elemental currently bonded to his molecular structure. John skimmed his right hand down her body, going between her legs. He dipped one finger, then two, inside of her feeling her wet and ready for him. When they did this he didn't want to hurt her. Helen moaned leaning her head back.

Dragging her hands away from his marvelous body Helen cupped John's face, "I want you like I have never wanted you before. I burn for you." She kissed him again, not gentle, but fierce, claiming. His hands settled on her waist, trailed down until he could pick her up once again. Helen wrapped her legs around his waist feeling him at her entrance. She wanted him inside her; it was a raging hunger driving her to the brink of insanity.

John felt her wet and warm against him, the desire passing between them so thick it could be cut with a knife. Gazing in her eyes again he wanted to be sure, more so than what her words or her body confirmed. "Once we do this…" he kissed her gently, "There is no going back. We'll burn again." John cautioned.

"I want to hunger for you," Helen nipped his lips arching her back, giving him entrance. "Fill me John; fill me in one powerful thrust."

Feeling his heart clench, his breathing go ragged, John did as she asked. He drove into her in one long, hard thrust. They both froze; the shear intensity of the sensation was overwhelming. Helen's nails dug into his shoulders and his were grasping the flesh of her thighs. John pulled out a fraction of an inch setting off electric sparks of pleasure that turned off everything in his brain except breathing and feeling Helen. He had to move, had to bring about the release they two have long sought.

Helen rose to meet John, her back arching, inner muscles clamping down on him and then releasing as he thrust in and out of her. John drove her higher and higher up to the plateau of pleasure, soon to release. She didn't want it to end, keeping him locked inside of her. Rising to meet him again she placed a gentle kiss to his temple where she had drawn blood earlier. Just out of her reach was the blinding orgasm. Helen didn't know how long she was going to last.

John leaned into Helen, bracing her up against the wall. She clung to him, clung around him so tightly he was amazed that he was able to keep pace as long as he did. The pleasure he was feeling was too much for his deprived brain to comprehend. Each thrust brought him one step closer to coming, to filling Helen, and being sated. He could feel the same from her. Locking his gaze with her John drove inside again and gain and again. The last thrust had his spilling over the edge.

Helen could feel John's release, it triggered her own; they were coming together. She locked her arms and legs around him riding the rapids of their pleasure. For a moment her mind went blank to everything but the feeling of John, the feeling of just having pleasure again. Their bodies were so hot that they hadn't noticed the water turning cold on them. With much effort Helen reached out, searching for the knob, only she couldn't seem to find it. And she didn't care. All she cared about was John's arms around her and him still being inside of her. She was floating on pure feeling.

John's knees were buckling, he expended so much energy that he could barely stand. As slow as he could he sank down to the tiled floor of the shower with Helen still in his arms. For as long as he could manage he wanted to stay inside of her, stay linked with her. They leaned against the other bracing each other up. He was so weak with bliss that he didn't mind being soaked in cold water; it still didn't abate his euphoria. Reaching out, as Helen had done, he turned the knob so the water shut off. With his last thought John used his powers to take them to the bed.

**EARLY EVENING:**

John lay watching Helen as she lightly dozed on her side hugging a pillow to her chest with the sheet barely covering her hips. Her hair was still soaked, just as his was, but she didn't have the heart to wake her. He wanted to keep her like this, keep her content and keep the hate from entering their world, this world of pleasure again. Just having her like this soothed the savage monster in his soul. Sex was a curative in one form or another.

Helen knew John was watching her, she could feel it all along her skin. It would have bothered her on any other day, but today they had had the most amazing sex and she didn't mind that he was now staring at her. This was the John she remembered, the John she had loved like no other. Opening her eyes she smiled, stretching out the kinks in her body. Her fingers ran through her hair and she felt that all of her dark strands of hair were still wet. "Oh…" She groaned, "I've got to get a towel." Helen had sat up, about to get out of bed when John flashed out of bed, into the bathroom, and returned with a towel. Smiling Helen joked, "No wonder I keep you around."

John closed his eyes, smiled, leaning his head to the side. His dark locks of hair were still wet as well. That was the one thing about his hair, it was thick and it stayed wet for hours; another reason for him to just cut off all his hair and shave the rest off. Only, having the feeling of Helen's fingers running through his hair was something he had missed. John combed back a few stray strands and sighed.

Helen was toweling her hair dry when she noticed John fooling with his. His hair was as thick as hers and took more time to dry. Taking the towel from her hair Helen said, "John slide over here." She sat up not worrying about covering herself. It was just she and John in the room.

"Why?" John asked, but he sat up and slid over to sit in front of her.

"I'm going to take care of your hair." She answered placing the semi damp towel over his head. She began to rub the remainder of the water out of his hair. A few minutes later she pulled the white towel away and saw his hair was now a mass of ruffled curls left over; just as hers were. Freeing her hands, Helen rubbed some of his hair between her fingers feeling the silky texture. To long had she been without the feel of his hair. It was one of the things she missed the most about him. "Are you going to cut it off?"

"I haven't given it much thought." But he had. He wanted to keep it and at the same time he wanted to cut it off and be done with it.

"I think you should keep it." Helen said before she thought not to. This was a John she could stand to look at for while. Having him like this, her dark fallen angel was something she had tried not to want, not to need.

"Well, then I will," John chuckled leaning in to kiss Helen. Her lips molded to his willingly, taking them back down into the pit of desire where the flames of passion burned anew in their blood.

**MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT:**

**LIBRARY**

John stood gazing at the holographic city. He had meant to ask Helen why she hadn't shut it down but he figured he already knew. It was something the world has never seen and she didn't want to turn it off. She probably would say she's grown too used to having it on. He walked the simulated streets studying each building while thinking about the sated, sleeping Helen in his bed. His mind was running in circles and he couldn't sleep even with her in his arms. So, instead he came down to the library to gaze at the city that had taken Helen's life and gave it back to her.

Nikola stood in the shadows looking at John, looking at the men he went to school with, the man who had spent most of the evening having sex with the woman he loved. This was an image from the past Nikola never thought to see again. John roamed the streets with his back to the corner where Nikola lingered. Druitt had half of his hair tied back out of his face, a black button up shirt, and a loose pair of khaki pants. Nothing about him was striking, what did Helen see in him?

John sensed the former vampires eyes on him, "You can stop staring Nikola." He ordered.

"What's with the hair?" Nikola asked bringing his habitual wine glass to his lips.

"Helen likes it." John answered. Turning to Nikola John arched his left eyebrow, "She told me so over and over again."

Nikola scoffed, "You're still high aren't you?"

"You know what really bothers you Tesla?" John changed tact's.

"Oh, do tell?" Nikola wanted to hear some lame idea to come from Druitt's mind.

"You hate me because you know you will never have her, any of her. Even like this," John motioned up and down, "Helen still prefers me, still prefers my touch, my kiss. And it kills you because you know you'll only be her friend, when you're not being an annoyance." Nikola could delude himself about Helen's affections all he wanted. At the end of the day John knew where he stood, where his place was; it was at Helen's side and in her bed, as it would be for all eternity. He left the vampire to return to his room, to return to the waiting warmth of his woman, of his lover, of Helen Magnus.


End file.
